


Of Monsters and Daisies

by guilt_is_for_mortals



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling against The Lonely, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Platonic Cuddling, Slice of Life, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22716835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guilt_is_for_mortals/pseuds/guilt_is_for_mortals
Summary: Two humans trying very hard to not be monsters.Just another normal day at the Institute.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 10
Kudos: 135





	Of Monsters and Daisies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dinosaurrainbowstarfish (Charlie572)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie572/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE!  
> I hope you have a marvelous birthday and you like this little present!
> 
> Of course I also hope that everyone else enjoys!

“Are you sure I shouldn’t cut all of this off?” Daisy’s fingers tried to detangle strands of Jon’s freshly washed hair. It had gotten long over the last few years, reaching past his shoulders. Jon wasn’t sure if he had ever got it cut since the day he became Head Archivist. Him and Daisy were currently sitting on the floor of Jon’s office in socks and sweatpants, the take away boxes from dinner still on the desk, a few pillows underneath them to make the floor a bit more comfy. 

“All we have down here are those rusty scissors that won’t even cut paper, I am not sure if I’ll look any better with it short… for whatever that would be worth.” He closed his eyes while she was working her fingers through the knots and tangles. Someone playing with his hair was _nice_. Such a mundane task, it made him feel as if they actually could be human, still. His brain slowed down, anxiety fading, all just concentrating on Daisy sitting behind him. He trusted her, with his hair, his back, his cursed life. 

“Alright… I’ll try to brush it out, though, or you’ll have to cut it short soon whether you like it or not.” Daisy had found a brush and comb somewhere - well, some of them actually still kept care of their appearance. They were probably Basira’s or Melanie’s, as Daisy’s own hair was too short to really need to be kempt. 

“Should I put on something to distract our minds? Music or The A-”

  
“We are _not_ listening to The Archers again, Daisy.” Jon didn’t even let her finish the sentence, cutting her off with a deadpan tone. Last time had been bad enough. She let out a deep and slightly exasperated sigh, but continued her work.

“Very well… alone with our thoughts, then.”

“Well, I am glad I am not actually alone, here - outch!” Daisy had tried to get through a particularly nasty knot in Jons hair and he flinched, turning halfway around to throw her a look. She just stared right back into his eyes, an eyebrow lifted, until he turned back around to let her carry on. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s… kinda nice, though? Still feeling pain, I mean… makes me feel more _alive_. For a while, back then, it was all just… numb.” 

“It is,” Jon replied. “Makes you feel like… you’re not _completely_ a monster.” It was nice to be reminded that he could still feel pain, that he still was human enough to have problems like tangles in his hair and rusty scissores. The comb was gliding through his hair without any resistance now, she seemed to have gotten all the tangles out. Jon slightly leaned back, closing his eyes and relaxing, enjoying the massaging sensation of the brush’s teeth on his scalp. 

Daisy was done, but she just continued to play with his hair for a bit. It was almost funny how much time could change you. Had someone told Jons past self that he would sit here in the Institute, surrounded by pillows and take away containers, while Daisy combed through his hair, he would have laughed at them. Called them crazy even. How would he ever trust her, how could he call her a friend?

But (almost) dying changed you. Becoming a monster - even if not just yet a complete monster - changed you. Being crushed by the dark, touched by fear. It made them understand each other on a whole other level. Jon wasn’t mad at Daisy for trying to kill him, not anymore. He understood. Sometimes he wondered everything would be better if she had.

“We won’t become monsters, Daisy,” he whispered, but he was sure she could hear him anyways. A tiny promise he knew he might not be able to keep. 

“We can… we still have a chance, I think. We’re still human, if not… completely,” he added. She sighed, letting go of his hair, standing up for a moment and stretching her limbs, walking over to a shelf. A small vase - well, it was a coffee cup that now functioned as a vase - stood there between two potted plants that needed as little light as possible. Basira had brought them, trying to make it all look a bit more _homely_ in the office. She also brought the small bundle of daisies for… well, for Daisy, who took them out of the mug now, dried the stems a bit on her jumper and returned to Jon, settling down behind him again. 

“What are you doing?” Jon asked, brows furrowed in confusion. He had thought they were done - not that he minded her hands back in his hair again. 

“I’m gonna braid your hair,” she answered softly, placing the flowers next to her onto the floor and began to part Jons hair. He wondered where she had learned that, he had ever only known her with short, pixie cut hair. But, at least from how it felt like, she knew what she was doing. 

“Why would you use your flowers for that? Aren't they… a bit wasted on me?” 

“This is the last day they are still pretty, they are starting to wilt and… how could you become a monster when you’ve got flowers braided into your hair, right?” He could hear her smile through the sarcasm. She picked up the first of the delicate white daisies and began to braid it into strands of greying hair. 

“You’re right, they will look lovely, complimenting my scars and the bags under my eyes…” He tried to sound dry and sarcastic, but just not quite managed to, a tiny smile forming on his lips.

“Oh, shush, you will look very pretty.” Daisy sounded as if she was outright grinning, continuing her braiding with skilful fingers and finally tying the braid up with a hair band she had around her wrist. Jon didn’t want to question why she always insisted on having one on her _just in case._

“See, told you so. Pretty.” Daisy had snapped a picture of him and his hair with her phone and presented it to Jon, who hadn’t felt pretty in years, but might accept that the white flowers looked really nice in his dark hair. A bit like snowflakes.

“Thank you, Daisy.” It was more than a simple thanks for the hair care, and Jon was sure that Daisy knew. These moments, these rare hours spent with a friend, someone to talk to, someone who understood… they were important. 

He let himself sink back, slowly, giving her a chance to avoid the contact if she wanted to. She didn’t, doing quite the opposite by letting herself sink forward to meet him in the middle. Loosely wrapping her arms around him, dropping her chin onto his shoulder. 

“Do you really believe that we can still be human? That we… still have a chance?” Her voice was low and filled with uncertainty. 

“I do. I have to. _We_ have to believe in it, Daisy, it is the only way. We can’t… give up, not just yet. There’s still some things… there are still _people_ out there to fight for, right?” A moment of silence followed, in which Daisy slung her arms around him firmly, pulling him towards her and holding him tight. She was thinking about Basira. He was thinking about Martin. They both knew. Maybe they would talk about that. One day. 

“You’re right, Jon. We can’t give up just yet.” 

They fell asleep there on the ground, slumped against each other. The end of the world might be near and maybe there was no chance for them to survive a fight against fear itself. But they could fight to stay themselves, even if the outcome was inevitable. In these tiny moments, feeling so much more human than monstrous, they knew they had to try. 


End file.
